


Run away with me

by Leopyropirate



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Ableism, Afterimage, Bad Parenting, Cardassian, Cardassians, Childhood, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Coping, DS9, Dominion War, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Drugs, Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, Eugenics Wars (Star Trek), Gen, Genetic Engineering, Genetics, Health, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Obsidian Order, Post-Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, Post-Episode: s07e03 Afterimage, References to Drugs, Running Away, Season/Series 07, Seizures, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Starfleet, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, internalised ablism, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leopyropirate/pseuds/Leopyropirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've had this idea floating around for a while but wasn't sure how to get it down. Hope you like! i may expand on it further :)</p><p>Takes place in season 7, sometime after episode 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run away with me

'Computer, Time?'  
'The time is thirteen hundred hours and five minutes' 

Julian put the PADD he had been holding down on the desk in front of him and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long morning, not because the infirmary had been busy, he had not in fact yet seen a single patient so had spent the hours doing his *other* job. One of the conditions Starfleet had insisted upon if he was to keep his position, after his genetic enhancements had become public knowledge, was that he was to do whatever, whenever and however they requested him to do it. Mostly, they just asked him to complete statistical analysis and predictions on battle outcomes, disease rates and anything else they thought might benefit from his opinion. Some days he felt like nothing more than Starfleets 'lacky'. It must be how Commander Data feels all the time, he thought, if Data could feel. There was someone else aboard the station who had a somewhat similar relationship with Starfleet these days, Garak. It had been weeks since they had seen each other, they could both probably do with a distraction, so it seemed the perfect time for lunch. 

Stepping out onto the promenade, he thought he could almost be forgiven for not thinking there was a war on - the shops were busy, people gathered by the temple and Quark's was as loud as ever. But if you looked closer, something was clearly amiss. Not all the shops were open, the normal diversity of the tourists was lacking leaving only Bajorans, and the group by the temple wore red armbands and stood holding candles conducting some form of solemn ritual. Plus, the presence of a large amount of security staff both bajoran and Starfleet was obvious. 

Garak's shop was closed, thought this didn't stop the doctor peering through the window just in case. It was no great surprise as it had seldom been open over the last few months due to Garak's work with Starfleet. In fact, Julian took it as a good sign, since it was only really opened now when Garak was feeling particularly stressed. Undeterred, he made his way to the habitat ring. 

There was no response to the door chime. He tried again. Still no response. In an instant Julian calculated the possibilities - Garak may be asleep, on the toilet or gone for a walk or... or... One more chance, he thought, then he'd use the medical override. This time the door chime was followed by the unmistakable *THUD* of a short, slightly overweight cardassian man falling to the ground. It was a sound that Julian had become all too familiar with. 

'Medical override Bashir One Alpha' 

The door slid open to reveal Garak seizing in the floor.  
'Computer, start timer'

Julian scanned Garak and the room with his eyes, then walked over to the desk, turned the chair around, sat and watched his unconscious friend. Slowly the convulsions stopped and Garak began to moan.  
'Computer, stop timer'  
'Timer stopped at one minute and thirty-three seconds'  
'This is no good Garak, you've pissed yourself this time' Julian spoke flatly, gesturing to a dark area on Garak's trousers.  
'I hope you don't talk to all your patients this way' Garak spoke from the floor, voice horse and eyes still not open.  
'You fucking idiot! Is it on or off?'  
Julian was, of course, referring to the anti-torture device Garak had implanted in his brain. Seizures were a possible side effect of both overuse or withdrawal.

'Off'  
'So this is withdrawal? That would explain the smell of vomit. How long did you get out of it this time before the pain started?'  
'Four weeks, give or take a few days'  
'Four weeks? No wonder you are withdrawing. I'll go and get you some hyposprays, then I want you to get some bloods done to check your leukocyte and electrolyte levels' He trailed off and rose to leave.  
'It that it?'  
'Yes that's it. I'm not going to hang around and listen to whatever story of woe you've come up with this time. The first time, I understood your reasons. The second time, fine, relapses happen. The third time, you thought your father had just died. Fourth time, He really had just died. Then the business on Empok Nor, then having to leave the station, then Ziyal. I get it, I do, but even I only have so much patience.'  
'You don't have it in you to just walk away'  
'I shot you once'  
'You've also fucked me, on more occasions than you've shot me'  
'Fine. If it means you refrain from turning that thing in your head on for a least a little while, I'll listen. But let me go and get you an anti-emetic first, I have no intention of conducting this conversation from the bathroom.'  
'Julian?'  
Julian's expression softened and he left out a defeated sigh. 'Yes, Elim?'  
'Thank you.'

When Julian returned, Garak had moved himself into the bedroom and sprawled on the bed. Julian passed him the hypospray and watched as Garak sat up and administered it before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed. There was a long moment of silence, broken when Julian decided to speak, this time there was genuine care and concern in his voice.  
'I thought you were coping, without the implant'  
'I tried, that lead to me try and fling myself out of an airlock. So that when well.' He let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh. 'Then it just got worse'  
Garak unsteadily stood from the bed and began to pace, angrily around the room. 

'One of the *many* reasons I first started to abuse my implant was because the way Bajorans would look at me with such hatred but now! Ha! Now I know that there is something so so much worse! Pity!' His eyes were wide and filled with rage. His tone of voice and movements reminded Julian of the first time he had seen Garak going through withdrawal though he doubted if Garak would have the strength to launch a table at him this time.  
'If someone hates you, it means you still have some power over them, they fear you, but pity! Pity is disgusting! After the news of my *incident* with the airlock spread I was no longer something to be feared or hated. No, I was poor old Garak! Don't worry about him, he's crazy! Oh Mister Garak I was sorry to hear you are fucking mental!'  
'Elim, stop'  
'So not only is the Dominion using Cardassians to do their dirty work, regardless of how many are killed, Starfleet using me to aid in this slaughter but I'm also stuck out here with people that pity me!'  
Garak's exhaustion caught up with him and he lent on a wall, then slid to the floor. 

'But every time you turn that implant on risk permanent brain damage. It's going to kill you one day if you carry on like this! There are other ways of dealing with things. Running away and getting high might make you forget about yourself and the universe for a while but it doesn't get you anywhere!' Julian let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hands through his hair. He knew what he was about to say would be rejected and mocked at but he still felt complied to say it.  
'Let me get some appointments arranged with Ezri, maybe start you on some medication, book some holosuit time -'  
'Oh there it is! That ever-present holier than thou Starfleet attitude! Are you going to fix me doctor?' Garak spat the words at Julian then looked him straight in the eye. 'You fucking hypocrite'  
The last comment took Julian by surprise, he had expected Garak to call him a variety of things, but hypocrite?  
'What?'  
'The implant will kill you indeed, and I suppose that hypospray of yours you take everyday has no side-effects then?'  
Julian went cold.

'You go a long way to cover your tracks, editing staff records and timetables, security tapes, even making sure it was Rom, not Chief O'Brian who always fixed the infirmary's replicator as he would never notice the large quantities of a rarely prescribed analgesic on the records. If he did, he would never realise it's significance or even by some miraculous chance he did, he would never have to confidence to mention it to anyone! You didn't think anyone not genetically enhanced would notice. I don't even think Odo knows.' A smile spread across his face and his tone of voice changed to that of his sweet, innocent tailor act.  
'I may find tailoring relaxing but sometimes it does get dreadfully boring. I have to find something to occupy my mind, other than using my implant, wouldn't you agree?' He licked his lips. He had enjoyed watching Julian's face fall, there was always a sick pleasure to gain from telling people he knew their secrets and from reassuring himself that everyone was as fucked up as he was. Finally he added - 'You run away just as I do.' 

Julian was at a loss. Garak was right, of course, it was true. Ever since he was told about his enhancements and that he could never show his true self, he had needed something to get him through the day. Holosuits, food, alcohol, sex, self harm, drugs, etc. He often wished everyone was as intelligent as him or that he was as ignorant as he pretended to be - anything not to live his double life 

'I understand Julian. Living a lie is hard. Being surrounded by idiots is hard. Being a constant disappointment to your father is hard.' He paused. 'I was locked in a closet, beaten and exiled for being a disappointment. You were redesigned.'  
The pleasure had seeped away and he was left feeling empty and dreadfully sad for his friend. He thought about his own substance abuse - the false sense of control, the addiction, the self-hatred, the isolation, the psychological and physical pain. Had Julian experienced these too?  
'Did it get easier after everyone knew?'  
Julian shook his head. 'Worse.' 

Julian had spent most of his life dreaming of the day when he didn't have to pretend to be someone else. He wouldn't have to dumb himself down for anyone. He would be liked and respected for who he really was, not the bumbling fool he played so well. But even as a teenager he knew this was never going to happen. That people would see him as the unnatural, inhuman freak he knew himself to be. So when the news of his genetic status broke, he had expected the stares, the murmurs and rumours, the curiosity mixed with fear he elicited from others. Expecting it didn't make it any easer to deal with but, thankfully, it didn't last long. Julian too, did not expect the pity he received, largely from Miles and Jadzia. They pitied him because he had had to live a lie and because of what had been done to him, thought they never said it in as many words. 

What had been done to him. That was the crux of it all. Had he really been that bad? He hadn't been physically disabled prior to his enhancements but that was all he really knew about himself. The natural, real Julian Bashir. That and he had had learning difficulties and some developmental delays. But nothing major, he went to school and as far as he could remember, he was happy. But he was not good enough for his father. So he had been genetically altered and left with the guilt, shame, anger of what had been done to him and overwhelming fear that he was never going to be good enough. So he had began to run away, forget who he was, if just for a moment of release. Like any addict, it was one thing then the next, then the next, starting small and increasing until it took up much of his life. His latest method was the most effective yet, through drugs. 

Julian thought perhaps Garak did understand. In part at least. Perhaps he had been too hard on Garak, he was a hypocrite after all. He rose to his feet, crossed the room and sat on the floor next to his friend. Silently, they held hands and both began to weep.

**Author's Note:**

> I know nobody comes round from a seizure that quickly but shh! This is fiction!


End file.
